1
June
I couldn’t pretend that it didn’t hurt me, but what I felt right then, just like all the problems I thought I had, disappeared in an instant. Everything else seemed inane when compared with William’s pain.
I twined my fingers in his hair until he slowly fell into a deep slumber.
I was about to doze off when I heard a knock on the door in the distance. It didn’t wake William, but it startled me.
“Will, I’m making myself a . . .”
I jumped up when I saw James standing in the doorway.
“. . . pizza,” he finished, as I was just about to throw him out.
“Shh!”
“Is he sleeping?”
I nodded, then we stared at each other for a few moments.
I didn’t know what to say. I was still upset by what William had said.
James left the door ajar, put the hood of his gray hoodie over his forehead, and turned around.
“Are you hungry?” he asked as I followed him downstairs.
He’d just showered. The scent trailing behind him was impossible to ignore, and so was the delicious aroma that hit my nostrils as soon as we got to the kitchen.
“Yeah.”
“Then go home.”
“You said you made pizza.”
“So?”
“So you’re a real asshole.” He looked at me askance.
“Look, why don’t we call a truce. For Will?” I suggested, extending my hand. He didn’t extend his, but he nodded.
“Are you staying here tonight?” I asked, sitting at the table.
He was wearing a tracksuit and had messy hair. He seemed completely at home.
“I’m making myself at home. Got a problem with that? Does a truce mean sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?”
I quickly got serious.
“Look, James, I don’t mean it like that. Will said that drugs allow him to lead a normal life, but they don’t make him feel normal. Do you know if he ever stops taking his medication when nobody’s there to check on him?”
James glared at me so sharply that I sensed I’d guessed correctly.
“He should always take it. Don’t you think?”
“I’ll give you one piece. No more, no less.” He groaned as he put oven mitts on to take the pizza out.
“Are you listening? I’m being serious.”
